


Tattered

by cadeus



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Guns, Its just something I had the insperation to write, Non-Graphic Violence, implied memory issues, not sure how to tag but here you go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 08:33:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16193900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadeus/pseuds/cadeus
Summary: His finger ghosted the trigger again just brushing against it as he took the time to slow his breathing.  As he sniper he could easily breathe slower than most in this sort of damage.   His hands despite being drenched in a cold sweat were steady and unshaken.





	Tattered

His finger brushed the  trigger similar to how a ghost might crawl along your spine without touching.   How you shiver despite the room being warm.  How the tempeture drops a few degrees in one particular  spot.   He eased off before pulling the trigger however taking  that chance to check his scope.   

His target should have been easy to assassinate ages ago yet the male had been struggling for a while with it now.  He closed his digital eyes softly exhaling.   His target,  Edd was a resistance leader.  He had caused millions of euros in damage alone.  Over the span of the laat few months.  

His finger ghosted the trigger again just brushing against it as he took the time to slow his breathing.  As he sniper he could easily breathe slower than most in this sort of damage.   His hands despite being drenched in a cold sweat were steady and unshaken.   He waited until Edd  was in position before pulling the trigger.  

Only once he watched the now dead leader drop he stood.   Wind tore at his face whipping his hair in an almost painful manner.   He ignored it however focusing on retreating back to the building.   He had done his job.   Tord would be pleased and he would be able to take a week or two off easily.  

Cursing softly  he knelt down in front of his case.  His wond whipped hands made it difficult to dismantle his rifle but after a few minutes of struggling he had the fire arm it its case properly packed away.   He stood  up after a momwnt taking a moment  to scan the war torn city.  It had once been the largest in the area. 

War must've hated it.  It hadnt taken long after the inital war before the city was considered a danger.  Pestilence fell for the city after Tord brought out the bioweapons.   Wind burned at his neck as he walked crossing the roof of the building.  The cityhad been taken in a storm that was war and sickness.   As the number of people joining the movement grew so did the body count.  

He ran his free hand over his neck in a weak attempt to warm the wind burnt skin.  It didn't work.   He then moved up wiping his cheeks carefully.   His face burnt, an indication he was crying.   Although he was puzzled he couldnt be too surprised.  This had been  a difficult  mission.  Months of chasing and tracking.  Months of studying the enemy.  Months of loosing soldiers who shouldn't  have died. 

They  had succeeded however and any other mission he wouldn't be crying.   So why?  Why was he crying over the man he hated?

**Author's Note:**

> There isnt a point to this   
> i just felt a need to write and had this bouncing around in my head


End file.
